


What Are The Odds?

by Attempted Eloquence (ringsiderage)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Sort Of, season 6B rewrite, the games we play to hide our love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ringsiderage/pseuds/Attempted%20Eloquence
Summary: “What are the odds you’ll kiss me right now?”Theo’s brows raise as he hesitates, gaze flitting down toward Liam’s mouth and back up. Then he steps closer, tongue darting out to wet his own lips as he starts the countdown, voice rough in a way that sends a chill down Liam’s spine.“Three...”“Two...”“One…” Liam whispers. He’s not sure if this is a game anymore. He’s not sure that he wants it to be.---Liam engages Theo in a game of “what are the odds” while waiting for hunters to arrive at the zoo. Problem is, once they start playing, they don’t really know how to stop. Not that he wants them to, anyway.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Comments: 20
Kudos: 164





	What Are The Odds?

**Author's Note:**

> ohohoho it's me again procrastinating final papers with some good ol fanfiction baybeeeeee. (someone help me)

I. What are the odds I break your nose right now? 

“What are the odds. Do you know how to play?” Liam asks. 

Theo glares at him, setting his broken nose back in place with a nauseating series of cracks. He takes a breath, voice thick and nasally when he answers, “No.” 

“You throw out a scenario and ask ‘what are the odds,’” Liam explains, idly watching the purple bruise beneath Theo’s eye recede. “And then the person you ask gets to set a range of numbers, like between one and ten. And then you count down from three and say a number at the same time.”

Theo couldn’t possibly look more disinterested than he does right now. 

“We’re waiting for more hunters to show up, Liam. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think now is the time for your childish games,” he snarls, sparing a glance out the gated enclosure. 

Liam rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re just mad that I broke your nose.”

“ _Three times_ ,” Theo points out with a sniff. 

“And, anyway,” Liam continues, “That’s exactly why we should play. We’re _waiting_ , duh. No one’s showed up yet.” 

“What’s the end goal?” Theo relents with a sigh. 

“If the person that dared you guesses the same number as you, you have to do the scenario. But if your combined numbers add up to the upper limit of the range, the darer has to do it,” Liam answers. “Like if I give a scenario and say seven and you say three, then I have to do it because it adds up to ten. But if I guess seven and so do you, you have to do it.” 

Liam falters, “Wait, that was a shitty explanation, let me—” 

A wicked grin spreads across the chimera’s lips, he interrupts, “No. I get it. I understand completely.” 

Theo steps closer, sadistic little glint in his eyes. 

“What are the odds I break your nose right now?” he asks. 

“Okay, that is not how it works—”

Theo ignores Liam’s protests, counting down. “Three...two...one...”

“No,” Liam growls. 

“Ten.” 

Before Liam gets the chance to explain that Theo doesn’t get to bet on something that he himself has to act out, _because that defeats the purpose of the fucking game_ , the chimera’s fist launches forward and smashes against his nose, pain radiating from the center of his face. 

“You know, this game is pretty fun. Thanks for teaching me,” Theo concedes, watching Liam pinch his nostrils shut to stop the flow of blood. 

“That,” Liam grunts, pausing to snap his nose back in place, “is not how you’re supposed to play, dickhead.” 

The sound of an engine rumbling draws nearer, and the pair turns their attention to black SUVs pulling up outside of the enclosure.

“Well, teach me again later. We’ve got company,” Theo shrugs.   
  


II. What are the odds you’re wrong about that?

Liam’s far too achy and disheartened to even be aggravated by the way Theo boasts about knocking him out five times at the zoo. Too alarmed by the fury that severs his connection to reality and makes him act without thinking. 

“I almost killed him, didn’t I?” he mumbles. 

“Almost,” Theo smirks. “But you broke your hands trying not to.” 

Liam sighs. “I guess that’s something.” 

“Next time you come up with a plan like this, pick a place that doesn’t trigger a murderous rage.” 

“I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he scoffs. It’s a fucking abandoned zoo. The only thing it should’ve triggered were faint memories of a life that wasn’t always as dangerous as this. Memories of fun. Of childhood. ~~Of Brett and Devenford Prep’s lacrosse team punishing him.~~  
  
“Whether you meant it or not you picked the spot. You made the plan,” Theo pauses, something indecipherable flickering over his face. “You wanted me to help.” 

“If I needed your help for anything, it’d be so I get angry enough to kill you myself,” Liam grunts, slumping further into the passenger seat. 

Theo shoots him a look that says, _you don’t need my help for that_. And it’s true. Probably. 

“You brought me here because that thing that came out of the Wild Hunt is affecting you, too. You need to figure this out before you completely lose it,” the chimera continues. 

“The Anuk-ite causes fear,” Liam argues. “It doesn't cause anger.”

This anger, it’s inside him. Always has been. Always makes itself known at the least opportune moments. 

“People only feel one emotion at a time, which is why you get angry when you're afraid. That's why you almost tore Nolan's head off.”

Liam’s face scrunches up, eyes narrowed at the chimera beside him. It’s utter bullshit. Even he can recall the noxious mixture of fear, anger, and sadness radiating from Theo when he and Hayden brought him back from the Skinwalkers’ prison. 

Feels wrong to bring that up though. Like it’d be trampling on the oddly reassuring mood the chimera’s in. 

“What are the odds you’re wrong about that?” he asks. 

Theo lets out a surprised bark of laughter, grinning over at Liam.

“What’s the rules again? Out of ten?” 

Liam nods. 

Theo draws in a breath, thinking. He says, “Alright. Three…”

_“Two…”_

_“One…”_

“Nine,” Liam predicts.

“Zero,” Theo smirks. 

Liam scowls. Again, _not how the game works_. For an evil mastermind—alright, maybe a former evil mastermind—Theo is incredibly dense. 

“It’s supposed to be between one and ten, genius,” Liam grumbles, although the fuck-up manages to pull the tiniest of smiles out of him. 

“My point still stands.” 

_And you’re still wrong_ , Liam thinks. Won’t say it though, only ‘cause he doesn’t want to wipe that self-satisfied grin off Theo’s face. 

III. What are the odds you actually go through with killing him right now?

Rage is quelled by the satisfying crackle of glass as Liam shoves Gabe’s face further into the splintering mirror, the sharp metallic tang of blood cutting through his senses. 

“Stop, Liam, please,” the human begs. 

“You think I’m going to kill you?” Liam growls, “You think we’re all killers? Maybe we should be.” 

Liam thinks he could do it. He _could_ kill Gabe right now. One less hunter to worry about. One less enemy for the pack to take down. One less pawn for Monroe. His grip tightens around Gabe’s skull, forcing his head against the glass with increased pressure.

“You’re really gonna kill him?”

Liam whips around without releasing Gabe, scowling at the sight of Theo wearing that smug expression that must be tattooed onto his face. 

“I mean, I don’t care if you do,” the chimera continues, “but have you thought this through?” 

God, even his voice alone is enough to make Liam’s anger spike. He turns his attention back to Gabe. Perhaps he should pretend it’s Theo’s head beneath his palm. That’d be nice. 

“Any idea where you’re gonna dump the body? No one saw you grab him, did they? ‘Cause that could be a problem.” 

“I don’t care!” Liam seethes, blinking past the rage clouding his mind. 

“I don’t care either, but at least let me help,” Theo insists. “I’m the one with experience here. If we kill him—” 

Yeah, suddenly the prospect of murdering Gabe seems a lot less appealing if it involves working with Theo. Experience be damned. 

“Theo, leave,” Liam grits out, glancing behind himself at the chimera. Gabe attempts to writhe out of his grasp, but Liam subdues him with a warning growl. 

“Oh,” Theo says, smirking, “I get it. You wanna do this on your own. Personal vendetta, and whatnot. Alright.” 

“Maybe I do,” Liam hisses. _And then maybe I’ll kill you afterwards._

“Well, you’ll have to find the witnesses and kill them, too. Which means you’re gonna need shovels, some plastic bags, maybe a chainsaw...” 

Liam and Gabe wince in tandem at the mental imagery that lists elicits.

“But, what I’m really wondering is...what are the odds you actually go through with killing him right now?” Theo asks, quirking a brow. 

The question catches him off guard, enough to cut through some of the anger thrumming beneath his skin.

Liam takes a breath, mutters, “Out of ten?” 

“Three…” Theo counts down, eyes alight with anticipation. 

_“Two…”_

_“One…”_

Liam grumbles, “Seven.” 

“Two,” Theo throws out simultaneously. He pauses, adding, “Darn, so close. Guess neither one of us can kill him now, huh?” 

Liam releases Gabe with a huff, letting the pathetic human tumble to the ground. The irritation Theo’s interruption generated is overshadowed by Liam’s satisfaction that the chimera actually played the game right this time. 

“Guess not,” Liam mumbles, glaring at blood staining the cracked mirror. Stupid, stupid game. 

IV. What are the odds you stop trying to save me?

“At least we know one half of the Anuk-ite,” Theo states, brow furrowed as he drives like his mind is elsewhere. Probably plotting, the way he’s always one step ahead. “Wouldn’t have been able to figure that out if you went through with killing Gabe, you know.” 

“Whatever,” Liam mutters from the passenger seat, picking at the crusted remains of Gabe’s dried blood from beneath his nails. He doesn’t even know that he would’ve actually killed the human on his own, but the fact that Theo saw him in that moment—when the thoughts at the forefront of his mind all centered around homicide—the fact that Theo knew, leaves him feeling a bit raw. Hypervisible. 

Theo continues, “That’s progress. You should—”

“Why do you keep trying to save me?” Liam blurts. With the ghost riders. At the zoo. Here, in the school. 

This nice guy act, it doesn’t suit Theo. There’s an ulterior motive there somewhere, Liam knows it. 

He continues, “You think it’ll make Scott forget about everything you did and he’ll just let you into the pack?”

Theo’s expression hardens, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles turn white. 

“Scott’s never gonna trust you,” Liam sneers, expelling all his residual anger from his aborted confrontation with Gabe. Even if it’s at the wrong target. 

Theo’s voice is too small, too defeated when he says, “You might wanna remember what Scott’s goal has been all along. Keep people alive.”

“Says the guy who offered to help me kill Gabe,” Liam mumbles. He bites back the urge to follow up the comment with, _and the guy who did kill Scott_. At least that, he can control. 

“I wasn’t being serious. It worked, didn’t it?” Theo points out. “I was just trying to—”

“To what? Help? Be one of the good guys now?” Liam interrupts, glowering at the chimera as they approach a stoplight. 

“Save you from yourself,” Theo finishes quietly, woeful face illuminated by the red glare of the light. He says it like he understands. Says it like self-destruction is something he knows firsthand.

Liam tears his eyes away, fixing his gaze out the windshield. A stilted silence ensues, one weighed down by the vitriol the beta spewed and the scent of Theo’s own despondency. 

“Listen,” Liam starts, stringing together an attempt at apologizing. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Theo shrugs as he continues to drive. “If you meant it, it’s fine.”

Liam gnaws on his lip, sinking further into his own shame, trying to dig his way out. He clears his throat, says, “What are the odds you stop trying to save me?” 

Theo glances over, offering a lopsided grin. “Out of ten.” 

“Three…” Liam counts. 

_“Two…”_

_“One…”_

“Six,” Liam guesses.

“One.” 

Liam’s jaw goes slack at the stark honesty, can’t quite comprehend the warmth the admission fills his chest with. Theo pulls into the animal clinic lot, just in time for their impromptu pack meeting, with an amused hum. 

“You underestimate my newfound altruistic side,” he jokes. 

“Yeah,” Liam murmurs. “Guess so.” 

But, it’s a game. Just a game. 

A dangerous one. 

V. What are the odds we make it out of here alive?

Liam’s initial belief is that he’s trapped on both ends. That Gabe—maybe Liam should have killed him, after all—told him to run only to have another slew of hunters waiting on the other side of the elevator doors. 

But instead, the arm latching around his shoulders carries a familiar scent. A comforting one, at that. Theo, snatching him out of the trajectory of gunfire. Theo, shielding Liam with his own body as he pushes Liam into the corner of the elevator as the doors shut. 

“What are you doing here?” Liam pants. 

Theo runs a hand through his hair, eyes wide. Says, “Was just asking myself the same thing.” 

Their heads snap back toward the doors as another round of bullets pelt the metal. Lucky them, being on the other side this time. Doesn’t stave off that hopeless feeling pooling in Liam’s gut, though. Doesn’t stop him from thinking that the only thing that waits for them on the other side is death. 

“Look, I’m not dying for you,” Theo blurts, tearing Liam out of his thoughts. 

“I’m not dying for you either.” 

It’s a knee-jerk reaction, words spewing out without thought. Liam supposes it’s true, though. If anything, neither one of them would be dying for each other. They’d be dying for the sake of all the supernaturals in this town and beyond. That’s what Liam tells himself, at least. Hopefully that’s a righteous enough cause. _Why does Theo look disappointed at that declaration?_

Liam has to look away from the fiercely resolute eyes boring into him. He adds, “But, I will fight with you.” 

“Okay,” Theo breathes, exhaling something like relief. A faint smile ghosts over his lips when he asks, “What are the odds we make it out of here alive?” 

“Out of ten,” Liam murmurs, voice heavy with solemnity like a stupid betting game is enough to determine the outcome of this battle. 

_“Three...”_ Theo counts. 

Liam continues, _“Two…”_

 _“One,”_ they whisper in tandem. 

“Five,” Theo imparts with a gasp, like the number crawled out of his mouth before he could even think about it. 

“Five.” 

Liam says it with enough desperation that the word sounds like a prayer. 

_Five plus five_ , he thinks. _Same number_ , he thinks. _No way out_ , he thinks. 

Theo’s lips quirk upward. There’s a softness in his eyes that brings Liam more comfort than should be warranted in the midst of a battle, in the midst of a war. Liam wishes they could stay here, behind the metal elevator doors while military-grade ammunition ricochets off them. Wishes he could convey how much the chimera’s presence means to him right now.

“Huh, looks like we don’t have much of a choice,” Theo states. “Let’s fight.” 

VI. What are the odds you’ll kiss me right now?

There’s a relentless defiance in the motion of their bodies. Synchronized, toppling hunters like they practiced this. Like all of their courage wasn’t forged out of a last-minute bet. Theo rebounding off a wall with Liam. Liam rolling over Theo’s back like he knows it’ll keep him steady. The two of them, reaching for a gun at the same time because the bullets could hit either one of them, and that’s not a part of their plan. Five plus five makes ten. They both have to hold up their end of the deal. 

They go down together. Liam grunting with the pain of a bullet embedded in his leg and Theo tumbling to the ground as a bullet lodges itself in the muscle of his shoulder. 

But that simultaneity breaks when Theo stares, haunted, at Gabe struggling to drag his own bloodied and broken body to the end of the hospital corridor. And _oh_ , Liam thinks, _this time he might die, and it won’t be our fault._ _And we won’t hide the body and we don’t need shovels or plastic bags or chainsaws._ Because Gabe, he’s a casualty of this war. Not them. 

Liam stumbles to his feet, gaze trained on the human, but Theo pushes past him, mournful and upset as Gabe chokes out _it hurts_ like he isn’t hurting as well. The chimera kneels before him, gripping his forearm tightly. Taking pain. 

This isn’t just altruism, it’s genuine kindness. It’s something Theo can’t fake, even if he wanted to. Gabe dies gently, softly, perhaps more than he deserved, beneath Theo’s touch. 

“You lost,” Liam utters over the walkie-talkie in response to Monroe’s desperate request for information. She lost, and they won. More fact than revelation, like how numbers add up the way they’re supposed to. 

The beta swivels around. Even beneath the incessant flicker of the hospital lights, Theo looks wrecked when he returns to Liam’s side, can’t hide the way his gaze keeps returning to Gabe’s corpse. 

Liam steps closer, further into his line of sight. 

“Theo?” 

The chimera’s gaze snaps toward him, all pain-hazed and tormented and wrong. 

“We just won,” Liam speaks. “We won. We’re alive. We’re okay.” 

Theo’s eyes widen like he hadn’t realized that. Slowly, he nods. 

“We won,” he echoes, a bit more sure of himself. Relief lightening his features, releasing the tension harbored in his posture. 

Liam wants to say something, wants to find a way to respond to the utter fondness in the gaze Theo has trained on him. The care and the reassurance and the belief and all of it. But the only thing that he can think of is how striking Theo manages to look even with grief carved into his features, how the shitty fluorescent lighting illuminates him in a way that’s almost angelic. 

And Liam’s next words come out without thought, unintentional. Haphazardly. 

“What are the odds you’ll kiss me right now?”

Theo’s brows raise as he hesitates, gaze flitting down toward Liam’s mouth and back up. Then he steps closer, tongue darting out to wet his own lips as he starts the countdown, voice rough in a way that sends a chill down Liam’s spine. 

_“Three...”_

_“Two...”_

_“One…”_ Liam whispers. 

He’s not sure if this is a game anymore. He’s not sure that he wants it to be. 

“Te—” 

Liam’s prediction gets cut off by Theo’s mouth against his. Fervent and passionate and loaded with repressed feelings. Theo’s hands slide up to grasp Liam’s face. Distantly, the beta’s aware of the sharp throb of the bullet wound in his leg trickling away, seeping out. It’s replaced by a phantom ache in Liam’s shoulder, like a sympathetic gunshot lies there. Half-conscious of the black veins trailing up his arms and the matching ones gracing the chimera’s. 

Theo pulls away, pink-lipped and breathy when he says, “Ten.” 

_Ten_ , Liam silently repeats to himself. Was it a guess or a prophecy? 

Maybe it’s not just the war they won. Maybe it’s the game, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! This was really fun for me to write (and also gave me an excuse to *rapidly* bingewatch 6b again lmao). It's pretty short and cheesy and straightforward, but I'd love to hear what you think, comments/kudos are always appreciated if you'd like!! xx


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